


Wolfish

by HeatherGiesbrecht



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood, Boarding School, Body Horror, Brother/Sister Incest, Bugs & Insects, Canonical Child Abuse, Deer, F/M, Forests, Full Moon, Gift Fic, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Sexual Content, Nighttime, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherGiesbrecht/pseuds/HeatherGiesbrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The werewolf's biting him ? It'd been his own fault, really, for sneaking out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolfish

Thomas would always remember the last two months of boarding school. The werewolf's biting him ? It'd been his own fault, really, for sneaking out. Like all the folklore said it'd been a full moon and a cloudless night. He had only wanted a reminder of Lucille, to him it later seemed as though werewolves and black moths were connected. Why ? It'd been the moths gathering around him that'd blocked the shaggy golden-furred werewolf from his sight. They'd flown away only so that the wolf could spring upon him. Pain had lanced through his throat and as it'd started chewing he'd choked and gasped on the welling blood. Just as suddenly as the attack had happened the wolf had fled leaving him to clutch the wound before stumbling back to the school. When he'd gotten into the bathroom his hands and throat were coated in half-dried blood. The stench of iron hadn't helped the fear still twisting in his stomach, which caused him to wretch violently into the sink before washing himself of blood and sick.

He'd willfully repressed the memories until the July full moon had swung around. It'd woken him from a deep slumber, his muscles had twitched, burned and simultaneously froze just like the later hours after Papa'd left him in that snow storm. Also it had felt like there was hair caught in the very back of his throat causing him to gag. Rather suddenly his muscles had failed and he'd fallen to the cold tile floor, gasping as a searing pain concentrated itself on his back and tailbone. Perhaps it'd been stress or just the way it was for first transformations, but he had only regained himself curled up beside the half-eaten body of a pine marten...then wretched again.

When he had returned home in Lucille had commented that, "You've a wolfish grace now, little brother, I love it." Of course, what with his new condition he'd been reluctant to give Lucille the sex she wanted fearing it would turn her into a beast like himself. Lucille had wanted to know why she was being denied when they'd been apart for so long, after all, "Didn't he want to love her, feel her, be inside of her ? Unless, of course, she wasn't good enough for him now." So he had explained all that he could remember of his being bitten, of that first transformation. It had fascinated Lucille who said they'd shared everything else so why not being werewolves too ? His nerves about the sex and giving the bite had made him require a little manual help that night.

So how could it not have shocked him the August full moon to see Lucille's pupils elongating, her chin too as her limbs froze then started twisting and growing fur, the tail that'd followed ? After they had chased each other around the house so that she could grow accustomed to her new limbs they'd gone outside and run to the hills, to the forest. A few black moths had started to flutter about them their dark wings glittering in the moonlight as they'd started flying away in a ragged line. Intrigued, he and Lucille had followed them to see a great stag stood in a clearing. Lucille had kept her near astonishing speed in wolf form, darting in to tear its throat out. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't felt like eating until Lucille had placed a chunk of bloody, steaming, thickly marbled haunch before his nose. It'd tasted far better than the remembrance of that first stringy pine marten. Suppose that it mightn't be too bad as a werewolf, after all, with Lucille at his side ?

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to give an apology to calliopes_pen for deleting the posting of Possession which she left a kudo on because of the Archive's oddity with it. Thank you calliopes' for all the kudos I appreciate you very much.


End file.
